


Fifty Years

by type_40_consulting_detective



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-21
Updated: 2015-06-21
Packaged: 2018-04-05 12:55:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 513
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4180611
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/type_40_consulting_detective/pseuds/type_40_consulting_detective
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Three of the most important conversations John and Mycroft ever had.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Fifty Years

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the Sherlock rare ship bingo prompt Ring

“How long can something like this last?” Mycroft fretted. “We’re hardly young.”

“Forever,” John whispered, half dazed as the sweat cooled on their bodies. His mind was still fuzzy, and the deep rumble of his lover’s voice wasn’t helping

“Neither of us can live that long, John. Be serious.”

“Fine.” John propped up on his elbow and tried to wipe the stupid grin off his face. “Average life expectancy of about eighty years, but with longevity in your family, let’s call it ninety-five. I’ll make ninety, at least. So fifty years. This lasts fifty years.”

“Fifty...alright. That’s not too long a commitment for you?” Mycroft buried his head in John’s neck, hiding his eyes from the too knowing gaze. John had learned him, when he was unguarded like this.

“Less than forever, but it will have to do.”

\---

“You lied to me.” John was waiting in Mycroft’s office, though no one had let him in or informed him of it.

“Which time?” Mycroft put the desk between himself and the soldier, in case things went as well for him as it had for Sherlock a few weeks ago.

“That you fed the information to Moriarty without knowing what would happen. That Sherlock was dead. That you no longer wanted to see me again.”

“John, you can see-”

“Of course I can see why. You forget, I can see you.” John rose from the arm chair he’d so often sat in before that Mycroft had referred to it as John’s in his own head.

“And so, where from here?” Mycroft dared to look up, to let his mental walls down for John just one more time. If this was it, he deserved to feel the full sting of it.

“We make up for lost time. No more lies, Mycroft. We can’t protect him with lies.” John reached across the desk, taking Mycroft’s hand. “I’m willing to try, are you?”

The sound that escaped Mycroft was hardly a word, more of a gasping sob, as the weight he carried for too long was lifted from him.

\---

Mycroft entered the restaurant, looking a bit confused. As if everything clicked, his eyes suddenly went wide and John nodded with a smile as he sat to the table.

“This is sudden, you know.” Mycroft spoke low, as if it were a great secret. 

“You’re not even going to let me ask?”

“Not here.” Mycroft’s eyes shifted about, though his body stayed still. “People.”

John took the velvet box from his jacket, as well as the prepared card. He knew Mycroft well enough, knew that some big event of it would only hurt him. This was quiet, private, simple. This was who they were. Mycroft read carefully, then opened the box, spotting the inscription. /Fifty Years/

“Good?” John asked, though he could see the answer already in his lover’s shaking fingers.

“It’s all in order, then. Y-Yes, I think this would be a good plan.”

John pulled the ring from the box, capturing Mycroft’s shaking left hand with his own steady one, and slid home the golden band.


End file.
